


Take A Dose of Reality

by deuces_satellite



Series: The Different Origins of Tony Stark [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt/Comfort, Mutant Tony Stark, Team Bonding, Team as Family, Tony Has Issues, Tony-centric, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 18:32:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7279315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deuces_satellite/pseuds/deuces_satellite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re still you, just extra.” The statement almost makes him want to scoff, because he’s not still him. He doesn’t feel like he is. Nothing like this has ever happened before, not a moment he can recall where this could be considered part of himself already. </p><p>“Am I?” he asks Natasha. “This doesn’t feel like me. <i>I</i> don’t feel like me.” Tony lets out a sardonic laugh, scrubbing his hand over his forehead. “To think, the one thing I’ve been taught to fear and hate practically my whole life ended up being myself.”</p><p>(or: Tony's a mutant, whether he likes it or not)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take A Dose of Reality

**Author's Note:**

> this was inspired by (and sort of written for) [this old prompt](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/6021.html?thread=8893829) on Avengerkink . by the way , _there are mentions of being drunk in this_ \- if you feel as though I should tag it , tell me . I have no beta and didn't completely check this over , so there are probably mistakes - feel free to point these out ! this is my first posted and completed fanfiction , please enjoy

Tony would much rather be anywhere in the world than his father’s mansion at any given moment. Unfortunately, every winter holiday Tony has to return home to spend time with his family, which he wouldn’t mind if it only consisted of Maria and Jarvis. Those two, he knows, love him as much as he loves them, with just as much intensity.

 

The trip home on the private jet is tiring, leaving Tony feeling physically and emotionally taxed as he hopes with all his might that Howard isn’t home. Drop-off at the airport is a quiet affair, Jarvis giving Tony a smile and wave but seems to understand that he doesn’t want to talk, so the ride home follows in equal silence. Tony sometimes opens his mouth as if to say something, Jarvis quirking his eyebrow in response, but nothing is said. All that runs through his mind is, if there is a god in this universe, please let him come home to only his mother.

 

He feels a tiny spark of excitement as Jarvis pulls into Stark Mansion’s extravagant driveway, noticing that his wishes had been answered as Howard’s car is nowhere to be seen. Jarvis smiles at him as he holds Tony’s door open, and Tony immediately rushes towards the mansion to greet his mother. She’s standing nearby to the front door, dressed in an appropriately themed red sweater dress that has slightly tacky gold ornaments sewn into it. Her face visibly brightens as she sees Tony, opening her arms wide as he goes to embrace her.

 

“It’s good to see you, mother,” Tony whispers, face burrowed into her neck as she rubs his back in a soothing manner. She smells of wine and is quite possibly drunk but Tony doesn’t mind, his mother is always gentle and caring whether she’s intoxicated or not. He knows she probably won’t remember this greeting in the morning, but that’s alright with him because all that matters in this moment is the fact that his father isn’t home to disturb them.

 

“As it is to see you, darling.” With a sigh, Tony lets go of his mother and turns so that he can see her and Jarvis.

 

“I’m quite tired, Jarvis can attest to that,” he tells them, Jarvis nodding his head to prove Tony’s statement. “I’d like to retire to bed before father returns home, if that’s alright with you.” He punctuates this sentence with a yawn as the two nod, though a queer look settles upon their faces. Tony decides not to think about, chalking it up to the fact that they wished he would at least spend some time with them before sleeping.

 

Walking into his bedroom and toeing off his day clothes to swap them with pajamas, Tony thanks whatever deity must be above for giving him that short amount of time with his mother and Jarvis alone. Though he dreads it, Tony knows he’ll have to face his father come morning. With an odd sensation flooding his body, most likely a wave of exhaustion, Tony lays down and sleeps.

 

Upon waking, Tony feels immediate unease. He can hear his father talking in the other room, and he frowns at the prospect of having to see him. Knowing that he’ll have to face him sooner or later, he decides to just get it over with and face his father now. Decision made, he slides out of bed and pads across his carpeted floor out into the hallway. The closer he gets to the end, he can hear low tones of his mother and Jarvis conversing with his father, filling him with some hope that he won’t have to face his father alone.

 

His entrance into the main sitting room is met with silence, conversation stopping as Jarvis and his mother stare at him in surprise and his father in suspicion. Not understanding the looks from Jarvis and his father but still needing to soldier on to get through talking with his father, Tony manages a polite, “Good morning.”

 

Jarvis and his mother return his greeting, but his father only frowns. He leaves the room muttering to himself, Tony only discerning either “mute” or “moot” from the quiet words. Clearing his throat, he smiles at the two remaining with him in the room.

 

“So, breakfast?” With that Jarvis is off, wandering into the kitchen with Tony close behind. Tony hears his mother say she’ll be there in a minute; he feels content.

 

* * *

 

 

Three days after the Battle of New York, as it has been dubbed, Tony feels out of sorts. At first, he’d assumed it was because of his near death experience and brush with space, but now he’s not so sure. In an out of body way, Tony feels a sort of pressure building up inside him. If he were the sort of poetic type, he would say a pressure has been building inside his soul and longs to be released. He’s not, though, leaving him to find some sort of scientific explanation without involving medical advice in any form to reason with why he is feeling this build up of something. JARVIS has already scanned him for any potential physical ailment, but nothing came up, leaving Tony to the fact that this is some sort of mental blockage.

 

He’s already checked if it was some sort of aftereffect of being in direct contact with Loki’s sceptre, but JARVIS and he concluded that the wavelength pattern Agent Barton and Dr. Selvig’s minds had while under its control could not be found in any form within himself.

 

Maybe seeing space as he did took more of a toll on him than he thought. Tony worries that it left him with some type of post-traumatic stress disorder, which wouldn’t be impossible considering he hasn’t been able to sleep due to nightmares of something no man should see in a suit alone to protect them.

 

Discussing this with JARVIS, they both agree that it’s the likely source of cause and leave it at that.

 

* * *

 

Fury’s called the Avengers to a meeting on the Helicarrier, specifying that everyone has to be there or there will be consequences. Most of the time, Tony takes that threat with a grain of salt and gives Fury a sugar sweet smile while biding his time on his tablet and listening with half an ear. Today, though, Tony feels that Fury might actually carry through with his threat. Probably the way he said it.

 

“Hello, Nicky,” is the first thing he utters as he steps into the Helicarrier’s conference room right behind the rest of the Avengers. Clint, as usual, gives a small snort at Tony’s use of nickname while no one else reacts; they’re too used to it and Tony decides to think up another title to give Fury to catch everyone off guard, but next time. Fury merely raises his eyebrow towards Tony, knowing that reprimanding him at this point would be useless.

 

“You’ve been invited to a meeting at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters,” Fury says, bypassing a greeting. “We all know it’s a school for mutants. And,” he gives them all a long look here, “I’ve already accepted the invitation, which means all of you will have to go and play nice with everyone else.” Tony feels an uncomfortable nervousness settle under his skin as Fury continues on about what he expects out of all of them at the meeting, when to be there, and how to represent themselves best so that the X-Men are on SHIELD’s side. When Fury’s done explaining, he stares Tony down.

 

“Stark, will there be an issue with you being there? Professor Xavier told me he understands if you don’t want to show, but I feel as if that will strain our relation with the mutants if one of our own refuses to accept them.” Some words are stressed more than others, Fury getting his point across as Tony shifts his gaze to look at his team, who are all watching him curiously and listening for what he has to say.

 

“Just because Howard and Obadiah ingrained in me that mutants are wrong and deserve to be treated like science experiments or eradicated doesn’t mean I can’t pretend to be nice to them.” Tony gestures his hand in the air as if trying to find words before saying, “I’m sure that in time, I can come to accept them.” With that, it’s final. Fury nods, trusting Tony to follow through with his word and for the team to keep him in line in case anything happens. He repeats the time and day they’re supposed to be there for good measure before telling everyone to return to the tower.

 

Flying home in his suit in front of the quinjet, Tony still feels uncomfortable at the notion of being surrounded by so many mutants in one area. For now, though, he mentally drops the matter to focus on other things, hoping to not think about this until absolutely necessary.

 

* * *

 

It’s not so bad, Tony figures, but mostly because no one’s done anything yet. That might be because the Avengers have only just reached Xavier’s mansion, yet Tony’s practically ready to bolt and never face these mutants rather than show up for this meeting for an agreement that might not even be accepted.

 

Outside of the doors to the school is an older looking bald man in a wheelchair, who Tony knows to be Charles Xavier. Though genetics really isn’t his thing, anyone who has even an inkling about that subject knows who professor Xavier is. He feels uncomfortable, though, knowing that this man is a telepath who could look into his mind at any moment and use his darkest thoughts and secrets against him. Taking a deep breath to calm his nerves, he plasters a smile onto his face as Steve greets the professor before entering the school.

 

In front of Tony is a team that consists of mutants all around the ages of late twenties to just reaching forty. His mouth stays shut as professor Xavier introduces them to each other.

 

“X-Men, I’d like for you to meet the Avengers, the ones I told you would be coming earlier. We’ll be seeing if we can reach a common ground with them for further arrangements,” he tells the room at large. “If you would please, for their sake, state your name and ability.” A glance is given towards the Avengers, followed by, “you won’t have to introduce yourselves, Avengers, as I assure you we are well aware of who you are.” Steve nods his head, his Captain America persona in place and in charge. Tony only feels more nervous at the fact that he’ll know everyone’s mutation and have to come to accept it if he wants this to work out, an uncomfortable feeling he hasn’t felt since the week after the Battle of New York resettling itself in his stomach. The oldest, and to Tony, roughest, looking of the group eyes Tony warily before introducing himself.

 

“Wolverine, don’t call me Logan” the man forces out. “I can slice you up with these,” three metal claws push their way out in between his knuckles, and Tony shrinks in at the sight of them, “if you get on my bad side.” The man next to Logan, Tony thinks his name just to spite him at least mentally, gives a long suffering sigh before speaking.

 

“My name is Scott Summers, but you can call me Cyclops. These glasses help contain my ability, which is optic blasts.” It’s all said with a polite smile, and the red haired woman goes next.

 

“I’m Jean Grey,” she says simply. “My abilities are telekinesis and lower level telepathy.” Tony feels mildly impressed at this, but something inside him stirs at the thought of being surrounded by two telepaths. Logically, he knows that they have enough control over their ability not to use it against those they’re trying to ally themselves with, but the worry is still there. As he’s fretting, which he did longer than he supposed, the rest of the X-Men introduce themselves. Thankfully Tony has more than half a brain, and committed their names and ability to memory whether he wanted to or not. There’s Storm who can control weather, and Hank who’s not only a furry, blue genius but also has enhanced physical capabilities. Tony assumes that this group is part of the original team for he swears, now, that there are more members that vary in age; he doesn’t voice this, though, because he honestly can’t muster up the want to talk to any of them.

 

In the back of his mind, Tony can hear Howard telling him, _mutants are disgusting creatures, Anthony, ones that you can never trust if you come across them._ Slightly derailing from the situation at hand that Steve and the others are handling for him, he wonders why Howard didn’t bother warning him about mutants until that winter when Tony returned home from MIT. Surely he had multiple opportunities to tell Tony when he was younger, or perhaps whatever came up that caused Howard to look at him differently was directly involved with going to MIT. Maybe it was the thought that Tony, alone in the world at the tender age of fifteen, had befriended a mutant. He’s pulled from these thoughts as both teams move out of the main entrance hall of the mansion into a more secluded room a few hallways down. Tony suspects they’re about to talk business, which might involve him having to speak.

 

Entering the room, the feeling in Tony’s stomach that had been there this entire time starts making itself more prominent. He thinks about using this ailment of sorts to get out of here, but not yet. He’ll wait it out, and if it still bothers him he’ll claim he needs to use the bathroom, which will become his chance to escape.

 

The meeting starts off good, Steve and Natasha hashing out important information with professor Xavier and Scott Summers as everyone sits off to the side, Bruce and Hank quietly and politely discussing topics between themselves further down the table they’re all seated at. Tony starts feeling a little anxious under Logan’s scrutinizing gaze but doesn’t do anything, pretending not to notice as he glances at Thor and Clint talking with Storm, most likely on the topic of weather control. Tony decides to make his tactical retreat.

 

“I’ll be back in a second,” he says vaguely to the group, Xavier nodding in what seems to be understanding while everyone ignores him, other than Steve and Natasha who give him slightly disappointed looks, knowing what he’s doing.

 

Tony doesn’t feel too bad that he left, and he’s thankful that he did because, right as he turns down the hallway towards the main entryway, his centre of gravity is thrown off as his insides feel like they’re collapsing in on themselves. He’s forced to catch himself on the wall, and immediately falls to the floor in the next second.

 

When he touched the wall, it turned black. It’s still black, in fact, but it’s pulling materials into it as if it is a black hole. The idea that he caused this strikes a chord of fear through him, and another black hole opens up beneath him, forcing him to scramble across the floor to get away from it. Distantly he notices that, while material around him is being pulled in, his body itself isn’t feeling any resistance from the gravitational pull of the black hole. As his thoughts get more panicked, he can hear footsteps running and the whir of wheels through the hall, both teams appearing in his line of sight and seeing the black holes near them. With all his might and fueled with fear at losing his team to his creations, Tony wills them shut.

 

Closing the black holes takes longer than Tony likes, the X-Men and Avengers being pulled closer to the gaping holes in the wall and floor as they stare at him in shock and wonder. Once the holes are shut, Tony gives them an expression of unadulterated fear, world crashing around him as Xavier takes this chance to talk while everyone else surveys Tony and the damage he’d done.

 

“Mr. Stark, I do believe you are a mutant.”

 

* * *

 

The X-Men agree to work with SHIELD and the Avengers, thankfully, with no help on Tony’s part. It doesn’t seem like either teams have said anything to Fury, as he gives no inclination that he knows Tony’s a mutant. Tony figures that, for now, it’s for the best.

 

Back at the tower, Tony secludes himself in his lab, telling JARVIS to put it on lockdown, and that the Avengers’ override codes are to be refused. He takes this time to try and order his thoughts so that he doesn’t freak out and open up any more black holes, but knows that if he does then the lab is the safest place to do so. He reorganises his mindscape into something definable again, forcing himself to calmly review the events that happened while at Xavier’s mansion. From the information he’s gathered, his, dare he say it, _mutation_ has only reacted upon his fear, leaving Tony to conclude that strong emotion leads to an unstable production of whatever it is he can do.

 

A few hours pass in this manner before Tony hears JARVIS chime with, “Ms. Potts’ override code, accepted,” and the team comes storming in. Tony starts simmering with anger, knowing that Pepper had to have given her code to the Avengers since she’s out of the country on official Stark Industries business. He doesn’t want them here, didn’t think they’d call Pepper to use her override, and suddenly his anger crashes over him in waves. All of a sudden the team is gone and he’s alone in his lab. It scares him, his anger stopping cold and turning right into dread because he knows that his cursed ability forced them to go, that push came to shove and strong emotion led to the Avengers’ disappearance. As with the black holes, Tony squeezes his eyes shut and repeatedly thinks to himself that he wants the Avengers back here, in his lab, ready to confront him. There’s a subtle popping noise, then Bruce’s voice.

 

“You can open your eyes now, Tony,” he says comfortingly. Tony feels like a child again as he sits on the floor, all the times when Jarvis and his mother coddled him or stayed with him after he was with Howard filling his brain, and he looks at Bruce with tired eyes.

 

“All of you were gone, in an instant,” Tony tells them, being uncommonly open with his heart. “I was being irrational, I guess. I was angry you and Pepper went behind my back to get in here even though I wanted to keep you out and, well. Whatever it is that I can do listened to how I felt and you were all gone.” Tony feels something build up in his eyes, he refuses to admit it’s tears, throat tightening as he speaks to his team with such sincerity it hurts.

 

“We don’t mind that you’re a mutant, Tony,” Natasha says, and Tony can’t help but note the ease with which she said it, unlike him who can hardly bear to admit to himself what he knows he is. “You’re still you, just extra.” The statement almost makes him want to scoff, because he’s not still him. He doesn’t feel like he is. Nothing like this has ever happened before, not a moment he can recall where this could be considered part of himself already.

 

“Am I?” he asks her. “This doesn’t feel like me. _I_ don’t feel like me.” Tony lets out a sardonic laugh, scrubbing his hand over his forehead. “To think, the one thing I’ve been taught to fear and hate practically my whole life ended up being myself.”

 

No one has anything to say at the point, but their faces give away their feelings on the matter. As per their training, Clint and Natasha’s faces are carefully blank. Steve looks like he wants to say something but can’t, and Bruce appears to understand what he’s saying. Thor’s expression, though, throws Tony off. He’s looking at him with such an intense sadness, something deeper that Tony’s words reminded him of and brought back to the surface.

 

“When I was young,” Thor says sagely, eyes as old as he is and simultaneously everyone is reminded that this man is a _god_ , “my father taught me and my, I mean, Loki about the jǫtnar. We were old enough to have already seen battle, so father believed that we were old enough to hear the war tales with the jǫtnar in their full essence to make us fear them like he did.” His tone becomes downcast as everyone watches with rapt attention, Tony starting to understand where this story is going. “Before Loki fell off the Bifrost, he learned through father that he is a jǫtunn himself. I do not know the details, for this conversation took place whilst I was banished to Midgard. I had not,” Thor sharply inhales, correcting himself. “Had I have known that Loki was so deeply troubled, that he is the thing that was a monster to us, I would have tried harder to keep him on Asgard. I would have held him close and told him, no matter his origins, he is still my brother. That what made him, _him_ : his magic, affinity for mischief, and vast wisdom; that? That had not changed. His outward appearance changed, verily, but who he was remained the same.” Thor looks at Tony heavily. “I say to you, friend Anthony, I will not let you fall into the same path of fear as Loki did. You have me to keep you afloat, to remind you who you are, as you have the rest of your team.”

 

Tony feels something wet on his face, surprised that the tears he had been trying to hold back have started to run down his cheeks. The team watches silently as Thor stretches his hand out towards Tony to pull him off the ground, and with a wet sniff Tony takes it.

 

“I would say you don’t understand how much I needed to hear that,” Tony starts, “but I think that you do.”

 

It’s upsetting to Tony, to everyone, when Thor responds with a rough, “aye.”

 

* * *

 

“Actually, there was one time my mutation might’ve manifested before this, when I was fifteen,” Tony mentions to Charles during their fifth session together. The others, the X-Men and the Avengers, are listening in as they always do. A month after the initial incident at Xavier’s mansion, Tony agreed to learn how to control his abilities under the supervision of Charles, who Tony at the time still called professor Xavier, and the X-Men. He insisted that his team needed to be there too, for reasons they haven’t admitted even now and that Charles is too kind to pry into. At the moment, no one's still entirely sure as to what it is Tony can do, mostly because the sessions have been more focused on Tony internally. Charles and Tony been meeting in the Danger Room while the others watch from above in the control booth to manage the situation in case it goes south, working through Tony’s mind to take down the blocks of fear with brute mental force. Only during the first session did Tony cause another black hole, the idea of a telepath rooting around in his head becoming too much for him in actuality. Now though, six months after Tony’s proof that he’s a mutant and with constant support from his team, he’s much more accepting of other mutants. For himself, he needs a little work from the damage Howard left mentally. Charles assures him that they’re making good progress, at least.

 

“Do tell more, Mr. Stark,” Charles encourages, interest piqued at the notion that Tony had come into his mutation when most other mutants do. A quick glance towards the control booth affirms his thought that the others are curious as well.

 

“I feel like I should’ve put this together by now,” Tony says to himself, before talking to everyone. “When I first came home from MIT during winter break, I remember that I basically prayed to every deity I could think of to not have Howard be there. If I recall correctly, which I do because,” here he taps the side of his head, “photographic memory and all that jazz, I got home to no Howard. When I told mother and Jarvis that I would like to sleep before he got home, they looked almost, I guess, confused? At the mention of Howard. It was as though, to them, Howard had been out of the picture long enough I shouldn’t have been asking about him. But it was late and I was tired, so I didn’t question them.” Tony squints his eyes, brows furrowing as he continues his train of thought. “And then the next morning, mother and Jarvis were surprised to see me, and Howard looked suspicious. I figured mother was surprised because she had been drunk the night before, but the reason for the other two’s expressions alluded me. Jarvis shouldn’t have been confused, because he was the one who picked me up the night before. So I brushed it off as surprise that he didn’t have to wake me up. For Howard’s suspicion, I assumed it was because he hadn’t seen a sign of me nor heard mention of my return within the house. But when he left the room soon after my entrance, he muttered something I could scarcely hear and mentally pinned as ‘mute’ or ‘moot.’” Tony looks towards Charles, confusion at what could have been a defining moment in his life projecting from his thoughts.

 

“Was Howard wondering if I was a mutant? Because they’d all been discussing something before I entered the room that could have easily been about my lack of return when I was supposed to.” Tony feels something clear in his mind as he realises something, eyes lighting up though the information isn’t good. “Soon after this incident, Howard started telling me about mutants. I had thought it was because I had gone to MIT and wasn’t under his constant watch anymore, but maybe it was because he suspected I was one myself. And,” he almost gasps, thoughts jumbling in his head as everything comes together, “when he figured out that I had no idea that I could have been a mutant, he taught me to fear myself and those like me in case I ever found out! It all makes sense now, Charles, everything fits together perfectly and makes _so much_ sense.”

 

Charles doesn’t look happy at the revelation, but Tony knows he’s right in the fact that everything has aligned itself perfectly in time to make sense.

 

“If that’s the case,” Charles says slowly, “then I believe I know what your mutation can be.” Tony leans forward, eyes widening in intrigue at the possibility that they’ve finally figured out what he can do. Tony’s pretty sure everyone else in the control booth is practically on their toes, too, in wonder and curiosity at what the mutation is.

 

“Have you heard of essokinesis?” Charles asks, and Tony shakes his head because, in all honesty, he hasn’t. “In more basic, non-genetic mutation specific terms, it means that you are able to warp reality to whatever you desire. You wanted your father gone, and he was. You were mad at your team and wanted them to go, so they did. You, on an almost subconscious level, wanted to remove the x-gene in ourselves and then in yourself when you discovered your ability, and the mutation responded by creating the most destructive thing in the universe: a black hole.” Tony can see the dots connecting, each moment smoothly fitting with the next as Charles explains what he is able to do.

 

“Then,” Tony poses the question on his mind, “what I want to know is, how strong am I?” Charles raises his shoulders in response, but there’s a twinkle in his eye that makes Tony curious.

 

“Who am I to say, Mr. Stark? For I do not know the answer,” is his cryptic reply, and Tony feels the sudden urge wrangle the information out of the man, for he probably does know, or has an idea of what strength he is, and is refusing to tell. He controls himself, though, inhaling deep before exhaling quietly through his nose, giving Charles an incredulous look. He’ll bring up this inquiry again, for sure, but at the next session.

 

* * *

 

Everything’s fine, now, at the tower. Not that things weren’t fine before, but they’re better than ever.

 

Natasha and the others held true to her statement that no one minds Tony being a mutant. In fact, nothing has changed. Witty banter still happens, Tony still complains about some of Clint’s pranks before pranking him back, Steve’s still a tree killer that reads newspapers, Thor continues waxing poetic about weird human tech, and Natasha is just as scary as ever. But, at the same time, there’s been a shift in dynamics. Everyone seems, at least in Tony’s mind, closer now. They all understand Thor a bit better, after the brief glimpse into his life they gained when he spoke to Tony. They’ve all become more comfortable around each other, more willing to share space in instances they wouldn’t have been before, willing to talk about things at the communal kitchen table late at night that they would rather forget but need to get off their chest. It makes Tony feel better, more included in a group than ever before.

 

With this closeness to everyone now, though, comes some bad consequences. Tony would think that being more connected and protective towards the other members of the team would be helpful, because he’d be keeping a closer watch on their safety and well-being, but he’s wrong.

 

* * *

 

A week before Tony’s sixth session with Charles, Loki attacks New York City.

 

“Honestly,” Tony gripes, hitting a magically enhanced doombot with a repulsor blast to the face. “You’d think that, now that Loki and Doom are buddy-buddy, they’d at least fight together! But no, instead we get Loki using Doom’s tech with his magical mojo to attack America’s number one under villain threat city: New York.”

 

“Be thankful that it’s just Loki, Tin Man,” Clint responds through the comms, and Tony can hear an explosion go off in the background. Clint must’ve blown up a few bots, especially with the new arrows Tony designed for him.

 

“True that,” Tony settles with saying. The HUD warns him about incoming doombots to his left, and he takes them out with ease. “Still, though. These little skirmishes with Loki are getting repetitive and easy. And for me? Easy equals boring. I could, honestly, be doing better things with my time now.” Tony probably shouldn’t admit that, but he doesn’t care. It’s true, and he doesn’t feel like hiding that fact.

 

Three hours into the battle, though, it doesn’t feel as easy. Loki’s added a legion of ice monsters to the fray, making it significantly harder to focus on both the souped up doombots and the freezing creatures. Loki himself is causing a ruckus, though it’s nothing more than occasional blasts at the ground to create small craters and property damage. At this point Tony feels that, if the battle continues on, there will be more damage done than good for New York.

 

The battle goes further south within the next hour. Loki’s raised the defenses on everything, and the Avengers are tiring out. Tony starts worrying for everyone more so than usual, JARVIS updating him on the less than perfect conditions of his team members. All he wants in this moment is to be away from this battle, somewhere he and the others could not deal with the doombots and frozen demons. He regrets wanting this almost instantly, feeling a somewhat familiar tug in his stomach, stronger than ever before.

 

Tony can’t stop the warp once it starts, Charles having not even started on helping Tony control his powers since they just figured out what they are. Tony still hasn't fully accepted the mutation in himself, either, and his fear at using it pulls him further into a mix of weird images.

 

What he assumes are multiple realities flash by his eyes, Tony reaching an arm out in panic as a black mass swallows him into another place, far away from the others. Where he lands isn’t so bad, but he’s alone.

 

Initially, Tony thinks he’s back at the Avengers Tower, but when he looks up, it definitely says _Stark._ He enters the building with apprehension, completely checking his surroundings but finds nothing out of the ordinary. No one questions him as he heads to the elevator, though a few workers within the building greet him politely. When he reaches the main office where Pepper usually works when she’s in New York, he’s shocked.

 

Obadiah sits at the desk in front of him, reading glasses resting on his nose as he leafs through some papers of importance.

 

“Ah, Anthony,” he says, smiling. Tony feels a cold sweat of fear start to break out on him, and he’s glad about it. Almost instantaneously, he’s pulled into another reality.

 

He’s inside his tower, but JARVIS doesn’t greet him; instead, a pleasant but unfamiliar female Irish voice does.

 

“Good evening, sir. I’m assuming your attempt at getting back on the Avengers’ good side failed?” The Voice almost sounds like she expected it, but Tony doesn’t know what to say in response as he’s more confused than anything.

 

“I’m sorry, what?” His intelligence has become nothing but basic words and questions. The Voice gives an electric huff of breath before talking.

 

“It seems you drank yourself into a stupor, sir. Worry not, I can fill in details where there may be holes in your memory. Yesterday, you set out on a personal mission to reconcile with the Avengers after the month anniversary of you and the team battling your creation, Ultron, in Sokovia. Are you starting to remember?”

 

Tony is, in fact, _not_ starting to remember. But he is realising. Ultron is a familiar name to him, a concept of which he and Bruce have been talking about creating in case the world needs to be protected from foes that even the Avengers can’t handle. The Voice said they battled Ultron, though. Tony thinks that means Ultron went rogue, which isn’t a good thing. He mentally files away the urgent message to shut down all works on Ultron at the return to his reality, glad that he ended up here to learn what could happen in the future.

 

“Yes, of course,” Tony lies, clasping his hands together at his waist as he forces himself to think of anything that isn’t here, wanting to get out of this place before he causes irreversible damage. With a pull in his stomach, he’s gone.

 

* * *

 

An indeterminable amount of time passes before Charles Xavier appears, right next to Tony. Tony, himself, is situated on a swing that is attached to a rock. The best part, though, is that the rock is free floating in space, and Tony’s able to withstand the pressure and vacuum that space is and survive. He knows that what he sees in front of him is sped up, as he’s watched stars come and go, supernovae explode and burn brighter than galaxies before dying out and turning into white dwarfs.

 

“Hello, Charles,” he says, not looking in the man’s direction. A meteor whizzes past faster than he can truly comprehend, and in the distance Tony can make out a dark nebula turning into a protostar.

 

“Mr. Stark,” Charles returns. He rolls over to the edge of the rock that Tony swings upon, legs dangling into space. “I’ve come to retrieve you, your friends are worried.”

 

“I find myself unable to leave,” Tony confesses. “I never realised how fascinating it is to watch what goes on in the universe. What we sit on now was once part of a planet, did you know? When I first arrived here, I was floating around listlessly. But then a planet near to me exploded, and I settled myself on this fragment with a swing.” For emphasis, he kicks his legs back and has the swing move. He stops it quickly, feet scraping against the destroyed earth as he stares at Charles.

 

“Do you wish to go home?” Charles asks, and Tony knows that Charles worries that he wishes to stay here. Some part of him does, in full truth, want to stay here, but a larger part wants to go back to the Avengers.

 

“Yes,” he says simply, removing himself from the swing, waiting as Charles repositions himself to face him. He rests his arm on the edge of the wheelchair, signaling for Tony to grab hold.

 

“Imagine this area deconstructing around you, and your lab in the reality you come from building itself up,” Charles instructs. Tony finds it oddly specific, but doesn’t question it. He closes his eyes and imagines the space around him folding in geometric patterns until it becomes a small triangle, which he uses to construct his lab. He feels the expected pull in his stomach and an unusual pull mentally that he associates with Charles, who is most likely tethering Tony to his original reality in his mind.

 

He opens his eyes when the feeling of Charles’ arm underneath his hand disappears, and he ends up seeing his lab with his team members packed inside. No one moves, taking in Tony’s returned presence gratefully. Tony also enjoys seeing everyone, not knowing how long he’s been gone in this reality, but for him it’s been awhile since he’s seen them. Everything is quiet in the lab, Tony barely remembering how to breathe as he looks at everyone; no one has moved an inch or greeted him, but he doesn’t mind. They’ve probably been worried, he highly doubts they haven’t been, and being in each other’s still company is enough.

 

Clint, surprisingly, is the first to react.

 

“Glad you're back,” he breathes, quickly striding over and hugging Tony tightly in an odd display of emotion. Tony gives him an awkward pat on the back before gripping just as tight. He hooks his chin over Clint’s shoulder, looking at the other Avengers with a soft smile.

 

“So am I.”

**Author's Note:**

> that's all , folks . you can find me on tumblr [here](http://deuces-satellite.tumblr.com/)


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